


Once, Always

by LiliesAtDusk



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Apologies, Chloe Decker Finds Out, Daddy Issues, Dan Espinoza Finds Out, Depression, Ella Lopez Finds Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forgiveness, God’s A+ Parenting, Hurt Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Other, Reconciliation, The Silver City (Lucifer TV), Whump, Wing Grooming, Wingfic, Wings, wing whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28734282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiliesAtDusk/pseuds/LiliesAtDusk
Summary: When his wings interrupt his sheet-shaking plans with a beautiful young woman (who is convinced he’s just areallydevoted cosplayer), Lucifer makes the decision to kick her out and cut the damn things off... again. Unfortunately, the first, much more successful attempt at mutilating himself was nothing more than good luck. This time he cuts a little too fast, a little too much, and a little too deep. Barely twenty seconds after the second wing hits the floor, Lucifer pays in kind.Quite frankly, on the floor, half naked, and lying in a pool of his own blood in a bathroom isnothow Gabriel expected to find his brother. Now he feels kind of bad about not paying back that fifty bucks...
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, God & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Lucifer Morningstar & His Siblings, Michael & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 285





	1. Bad Decisions

“I’d recommend you leave. Now.” The muscles in his back twitched; they knew what was coming. He tried not to think about what Dr. Linda would say.

“I’m about to engage in a rather gruesome form of manscaping.” Lucifer watched her go. A shame, truly. But no sooner had the elevator door closed, he made his way to the bathroom, twirling the dagger in his hand. He hoped to make this quick. The first time he’d done this by himself—what? Yesterday?—it had taken him ages to find the right position. Ages and his huge mirror.

This time, Lucifer was confident that he could turn an hour into ten minutes, tops. The faster the better, anyhow. Being an Angel did _nothing_ to curb the pain of cutting his wings off.

So he rolled his shoulders _just so_. Hidden muscled flexed and coiled under his skin, barely visible as they moved. Nearly invisible unless you knew what you were looking for. The wings, however, were hard to miss. They unfurled slowly in the small space, tucking close to his back and trembling. 

“It’s not exactly fun for me, either, you feathered pricks,” Lucifer muttered, but his hands were shaking twice as hard.

He turned his back to the mirror and craned his neck to look. They looked exactly like they always had. They were even missing the feather he accidentally pulled out last time. It was interesting, but Lucifer pushed the thought away. He needed to cut them off and be done with it. He had therapy to get to, after all. Not that he was looking forward to this particular conversation...

Lucifer pinned one wing to the floor with his foot to tug it away from his body. He needed to get the whole thing. He was sure that wing stumps were a much bigger turnoff than scars. At least people thought scars were _cool_.

The knife was cool against his skin. He became hyper-aware of his heartbeat in his ears. Of the increase quiver in his hands. He just needed to do it. So he did.

The first slice went straight to the bone. He felt the hot rush of blood on his hands, but there wasn’t quite pain so much as a pressure. So before he could well and truly feel it, he twisted the knife to sever the bones where they met. This time the pain was white-hot, but Lucifer pulled the knife down as hard as he could, and the weight dropped from his shoulder. 

A strangled cry escaped his lips. It burned no less now than the first two times. And he knew it would only get worse if he waited. He pinned the other wing and pulled. Everything felt hot. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. As he put the knife back up to the skin, he knew that if he didn’t do this quickly, the cut wouldn’t be clean. A deep breath in, and...

He knew something was wrong on the first cut. There was more blood than there should be, it felt like he had cut more than he should have. His knife still met with bone, but he had to slide it to get to the joint. He slammed the worrisome thought down and away and twisted his knife as powerfully as he could muster. He felt the _pop_ and the fire. Without thinking, he used the momentum to force the wing the rest of the way off. When the knife finally slid clean, Lucifer fell forward and retched into the bathtub. 

That wasn’t right. There was too much of everything between the knife hitting his skin and the wing finally falling off. Time, pain, bone, flesh, _everything_. His head felt heavy. He pressed his cheek to the tub to dull the ache.

His heartbeat was more than fast, now. Was it even beating? It almost felt like one solid hum in his ears. Like a bee buzzing around in his brain. Was that an expression? Bees in your brain? At least they weren’t stinging him. That wouldn’t be good. Was he allergic to bees? Maybe when the Detective was around. The Detective. She could get the bees out. He needed to find the detective...

Lucifer tried to push himself away from the tub, but his hand slipped on the edge and his face plummeted right back down into the marble. He groaned pitifully as he slid onto the floor. Why were his hands so wet? They were blurry when he looked at them. Maybe that was the problem. Blurry hands are _wet_! 

The floor was cold against his damp skin. It was uncomfortable, but every time Lucifer stood up, he’d blink and be back in the exact same position as if he’d never moved at all. There was _something_ warm, though. His shoulders and back were very toasty. Like he was pressed up against a heater. He felt both slimy and crusty when he moved. Maybe he should just take a nap. Then he’d be well rested for work with the Detective. She liked it when he was at his best, so a quick nap really had to be the best option.

As he closed his eyes, Lucifer barely heard the gentle _woosh_ from down the hall.


	2. Doctor, Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s time for Gabriel’s reaction 😄 He’s like my favourite character to write so far 👀

Gabriel landed gracefully on the polished floors of his brother’s penthouse. It wasn’t the Silver City, but he had to admit that it was nice. The piano caught his eye and Gabriel smiled. Lucifer always liked those things. Still, he did have a job to do. Not that he hadn’t tried for an hour to convince Raphael to do it instead.

“Luci?” He called. Silence. “Luuuuuciiii, spare a moment for big brother Gabe?” The only response was a flicker from the bar lights. Gabriel huffed.

“Is this about that money I owe you? Come on, that was _literally_ eons ago. Not like you could even use it now!”

He knew Lucifer had to be there. There was a half-drank cup on the counter, an open box on a table, and the bedsheets were rumpled. Lucifer always kept his areas tidy. So Gabriel folded his massive wings back into nonexistence. He watched the green feathers disappear in the reflection off the floor.

First, he stepped into the bedroom. Maybe his little brother wasn’t above playing hide-and-seek at forty-billion years old. Fine. Gabriel could play, too. 

He wasn’t in the closet—which was full of some crazy-expensive human clothes, he might add, so he really didn’t need that fifty bucks—and he wasn’t under the covers. Walking carefully down the steps, he looked around. He wasn’t behind the bar, or in the other closet. Or even in the _other_ other closet.

Down a little hallway was seemingly the only room with a door on it. Gabriel tried the handle. It turned but did not open. 

_Gotcha..._

“You know I can open these, right? You’re smarter than that, Luci.” The response wasn’t immediate. Gabriel was reaching for the handle a second time when he heard it. Wheezing. Quiet, barely audible wheezing. He narrowed his eyes.

“Are you messing with me? Luci, seriously. I’m just here because Michael told me to tell you to stop cutting your wings off out of spite, it’s dangerous to leave that stuff lying around. Or at least burn them, he said, but that’s kinda rude, so...” 

The lock clicked under Gabriel’s gaze, and he pushed the door open with a smile on his face. It dropped immediately. Gabriel’s stomach roiled. 

_Holy **fuck**!_

“Lucifer! Lucifer what the _fuck_?” His voice sounded high-pitched and foreign to his ears. His mind went blank. There was so much blood. So, _so_ much blood. It coated the bathroom floor like some sort of nasty rug.

Gabriel rushed to his brother’s side and flipped him onto his stomach. The two massive open wounds were still gushing blood with no signs of slowing down. He blindly grasped at the towel rack and shoved one onto each crescent. It wasn’t until the blood peeked through that he realised they were white. Oh, well.

“Hey, hey. Lucifer? You with me?” A grating sound came from his brother’s pale lips. His eyes were slits, but Gabriel could tell they were rolled back into his skull. His entire body was trembling, freezing cold, and drenched in sweat. His chest was barely moving.

 _Leave him here_ , a quiet voice in his head whispered. _He should be in Hell, anyway. Just go home._

Gabriel was shaking now, too. He looked at his brother’s body, pathetic and limp on the floor. He started a rebellion, sure. That was pretty stupid, but Gabriel still sort of respected it. He was on Dad’s side, but... Lucifer was still his _brother_. And he was getting whiter by the second.

_He wouldn’t do the same for you. He’d let you die here and he’d dump your body in the woods like Uriel’s. We’re just traitors in his mind. Just leave._

But Gabriel didn’t believe that in the slightest. Lucifer couldn’t do that to him. Besides, integrity and all that. He didn’t need a reason to do the right thing, but what _was_ the right thing? Lucifer should technically be in Hell...

“Dad damn you, Lucifer. You’re so lucky I love you, you ass.”

Lucifer was wet and sticky and heavy. The blood-soaked right through the grey robes Gabriel was wearing, but he couldn’t care less. He needed to get his dumbass of a brother to Raphael and quick.

“Holy shit, you’re heavy,” he groaned. “Stupid idiot, getting yourself dead. Got me all freaked out, can’t even speak english. Ass.”

With a shrug, his wings unfurled and he took off. He groaned internally as he crossed out of the Earthly plane. He could be across the universe in seconds there, but as soon as he was in the Heavenly plane, he was back to normal speed. He wasn’t in the right mental spot to choose where to appear, so he simply crossed over into the same spot relative to where he was on the Earthly plane. And that was at least a ten-minute flight. Well, ten-minutes without _really_ straining himself.

So Gabriel tensed and pushed himself as far as he could. His body screamed at him to slow down after like, five seconds. He was not built for this. He was pretty sure that he was moving faster than Cassiel during a race. He wouldn’t be able to fly for a week after this. He wouldn’t be able to do _anything_ for a week after this.

He didn’t dare look down at Lucifer. He didn’t want to see how awful he looked. How _dead_. He was so cold in his arms.

Finally, he saw the Silver City over the horizon. Beautiful walls surrounded the great city, and Gabriel sighed in relief that he wasn’t headed straight for a gate. He didn’t have time to explain why he was letting Lucifer in. Wait. Could he let Lucifer in? Would he just bounce off some invisible barrier? Just bleed out and die right there on the grass beside his home?

 _His_ old _home_ , he reminded himself.

But Gabriel barrelled over the wall at lightning speed, clearly scaring the absolute shit out of Tabris, sitting on the edge. He heard her scream as she fell backwards in fright. He hoped she caught air before she hit the ground...

Raphael’s hospital loomed over almost everything else. It was all the way at the other end of the City, but Gabriel was gaining on it fast. He hit the ground painfully, but kept on his feet and sprinted as fast as he could with an almost-dead body in his arms.

“RAPH, _RAPH!_ ” He screeched, drawing the attention of several humans and animals. Heads poked out of doors, some even started after him, but Gabriel didn’t stop running. He had to find Raphael. Or at least Zuriel. 

“ZURI!” 

He didn’t see her coming until she skidded right into him, also at top speed. They rolled over each other until they came to a halt on opposite sides of the hall. Lucifer’s completely limp body was sprawled across his chest.

“What the heck, Ga— _holy shit dude is that Lucifer_?”

“Yes, yes, yes, where’s Raph?” He groaned, pushing Lucifer off of him until he could stand and pick him up again. His skin was like ice, but he could still feel a pulse. 

“Hang on,” Zuriel breathed, putting her hands together in prayer. Why hadn’t he thought of that? 

Not even a breath later, Raphael was there, taking Lucifer from him and running. Gabriel ignored his muscles’ protests and ran after him. Zuriel was right behind.

———

By the time they caught up, Raphael had Lucifer on a bed, face down, with a celestial IV stuck in his arm. He was barking commands at Zuriel, who was looking nearly as pale as Lucifer. She apparently listened to him, though, because she nodded and took off again. It was several moments before Gabriel realised he was being spoken to as well.

“Gabe? Gabe. _GABRIEL!_ ” Raphael was shouting. Gabriel flinched and shook his head.

“Y-yeah?”

“Go get Michael. Lucifer needs blood, like, yesterday.”

“O-okay. Yeah. Okay. I-I’ll be back in a minute.”

“NOW!”

“Right!”

And Gabriel was running again, then flying. He was so preoccupied with getting to their home, he didn’t even realise when he actually got there. It was all he could do to stop himself from slamming into the doors headfirst.

Back to running, Gabriel put his hands together and prayed to Michael to get his “crusty ass down here, now!”

For the second time that day, he collided with a sibling as Michael rounded a corner.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Michael cursed. He backed up, holding his arm carefully. “What the hell do you want?”

Gabriel looked Michael up and down. He wouldn’t like the news, so he just wouldn’t tell him.

“Raphael needs you at the hospital. Like, immediately.”

Michael rolled his eyes dramatically and started down the hall.

“This better be good.”

Gabriel grimaced, facing the wall. “Oh, it is,” he whispered.

He flopped himself against the cool marble and slid down. He needed a week-long nap. Or a small coma, as Raphael called it. Right. Gabriel desperately needed a small coma.

But he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. Lucifer was there, in the Silver City, after over twenty-five millennia. What was Dad going to do? Did he really expect Gabriel to just leave him there? He couldn’t have if he hadn’t stopped him. He didn’t even have the slightest trouble getting him into the city. Everyone assumed that Lucifer was physically unable to get into the city, but there he was. Maybe it was different when he was brought in by someone else. Or something like that. Gabriel didn’t want to think about it.

But that didn’t stop the thoughts from coming. He couldn’t help but remember the rebellion and how he missed all but the very end. He had been on Earth, with Azrael, because Lucifer said it was important that they be there. Well, that Azrael be there. At the time, she couldn’t fly; she had still had pinfeathers over half of her wings. Lucifer told him to fly her down because she needed to be there, and Gabriel had obliged. When they got there, and there wasn’t anything to be done, they came back, confused as to why Lucifer had _lied_ to them.

When they returned they saw why. They pushed through throngs of siblings just in time to watch Michael pull Lucifer back by his hair and onto his sword. It was such an awful injury. To be pulled onto a blade, rather than the blade being thrust into you had to hurt so much worse. But everyone had just stood back and watched. Even when Michael, enraged and afraid, snapped Lucifer’s wings. And then he pushed him through the threshold of their plane of existence and let him fall. When Michael came back, no one dared mention his wing and how ruined it was. Gabriel knew he went to Raphael several times, but nothing had fixed the wing nor his back. Call it karma, Gabriel supposed. 

It was clear that Lucifer had won the fight. He had crouched next to Michael, smiling like they’d been arguing over who got the top bunk rather than who got to rule Heaven. If that was even what the rebellion was about. Gabriel cringed every time he thought about it. Michael had been on the ground, defeated, and instead of conceding, he pulled his own twin back onto a waiting blade. Gabriel may have been on Dad’s side, but that didn’t make him blind.

So Gabriel knew that that Michael was going to flip when he reached the hospital. Raphael didn’t have time to check every sibling for a matching blood type. For humans, the family would be the easy option. But the children of God were as diverse as the entire human race. Different skin, different features, and quite possibly, different blood. So Michael, the identical twin, was the fastest, safest option.

Footsteps broke Gabriel out of his thoughts. Metatron came from behind a set of open doors and stared. She raised a black eyebrow at him. Her mouth opened.

“Dad’s gonna kill me,” He groaned, sinking into a half-laying position. 

“‘Bit extreme. Why?” She asked, narrowing her eyes. Her wings twitched behind her back. “He didn’t even kill Lucifer.”

Gabriel attempted a smile that was really more of a grimace. “Yeah, but did Lucifer bring Lucifer directly into the Silver City?”

Metatron blanched. “Excuse me?”

“He was dying on the floor and I panicked!”

“I— I— Yeah no I probably would have done the same thing, I won’t lie.

It was Gabriel’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Really? Second Born, just up and fly Lucifer into the Silver City?”

“What kind of monster do you think I _am_?

He smiled. For real, this time. “Okay, so that wasn’t just _my_ train of thought.

Metatron stepped closer to him and reached out her hand. Gabriel took it.

“Michael’s probably at the hospital now. Raph needs his blood for Lucifer.”

Her gaze shifts up to the ceiling. “I doubt he’s there, yet. It hasn’t been blown off the map.”

Gabriel snorted. “True.” Metatron gave him a toothy grin.

He stopped. His expression grew sombre. 

“What do you think’s going to happen?”

“What do you mean?”

He turned his head to look into one of the rooms off the hall. “You know, when everyone finds out he’s here. They wouldn’t kick him out like this, would they?”

Metatron followed his gaze. “I hope not. I mean, even Michael couldn’t possibly be that cruel. Unless Lucifer starts a fight, I think he should probably be okay to stay. Until he recovers, I mean.”

Something in her words grated on his ears. Until he recovered? Were they just going to heal him and then toss him right back out again? That almost sounded worse. His brother may have been dumb, but he was still the fun one. And the worst thing he did was tell their Dad to go fuck himself. Not that Gabriel would tell anyone, but he’d thought that same thing at least once a day, every day of his life. Lucifer just said it out loud.

Their talk had still helped him, though, and Gabriel was suddenly feeling that flight home. His shoulders ached uncomfortably. He waved goodbye to his sister and slunk to his room.

As he sank into his bed, he sent a quick prayer to Raphael, asking him if Lucifer was okay and, almost more importantly, if Michael was okay.

Just when his eyes closed, he got his response.

_Still alive._


	3. Character Art: Metatron

Since I’m trying to make the next chapter longer, I figured I’d post this art of Metatron that I made in the interim.

I modelled her wings after the Golden Eagle!

The image is, in fact, mine 😌


	4. Ouch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to our regularly scheduled programming!
> 
> This one was fun to write 😌
> 
> It also singlehandedly doubled the word count 😄😄

Raphael was not surprised when Michael told him to shove his needle where the sun didn’t shine. He went off about Lucifer being a danger to the city and its inhabitants and blah, blah, _blah_. No, what surprised him was that as soon as Raphael mentioned asking their Dad for his opinion, Michael agreed to sit down and give the blood.

And so, almost eight hours later, Lucifer was almost kind of stable. He had cleaned and packed the wounds on his back but was still watching them closely. This was not the first time he had cut his wings off. It was apparently the first time it went badly, though. Raphael frowned at his brother. He looked so peaceful in his sleep. His heart didn’t ache for his fallen brother, and no one could prove otherwise.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t have just let him die and go back to Hell. You know, _where he belongs_.” Michael sneered at the blood dripping from his arm. Raphael bristled.

“Watch your tone with me, Michael. Or do I need to talk to Dad about your insubordination?”

Michael’s jaw clenched. He watched the muscles jump. He would be talking to Dad, anyway, of course, but Michael didn’t need to know that.

The darkness in the room was waning. Dad was readying the day. Would he still, if he knew?

There wasn’t time to think about it. Raphael had to sit there the whole night with Lucifer. And Michael, unfortunately. He sat down by the head of the bed.

“You’d better wake up after all this trouble. So I can kick your ass, at least.”

Quiet breathing was his only response. At least now his chest was rising and falling noticeably and steadily. He placed a hand on Lucifer’s cheek. It was still cold, but not concerningly so. With any luck, he’d be awake in a few days. The only problem now was figuring out what to do until then... and after.

Raphael rolled his chair over to the desk in the corner of the room. He needed to completely rework his schedule for the next day so it would fit around Lucifer almost-dying. He absently clicked his pen several times before he started writing.

  * **Make sure Lucifer’s still alive**
  * **Kick Michael out**
  * **Duties to Zuriel**
  * **Get wings**
  * **Talk to Dad**
  * **Deal w/ wounds**
  * **Family meeting**



He stared at the paper for several seconds, considering. Dawn wasn’t far off. Putting his pen to the paper, he scratched off the fourth bullet.

“I need to go grab his wings. Don’t move, and don’t kill Lucifer.” Michael’s mouth opened. “OR hurt him. _Christ_.”

Michael made a face but made a point to kick his legs up onto the bed. Lucifer would probably still be alive when he got back.

Raphael’s feathers ruffled. He didn’t like going to Earth, and he definitely didn’t like walking into rooms full of blood. The thought made his doctor instincts shudder. But if he didn’t get the wings, it was hard to see exactly what the damage was. There was no reference for severed wings save for the ones laying on the floor at Lucifer’s penthouse. He closed his eyes.

Focussing on landing in the penthouse, Raphael flexed his wings and took off. When he opened his wings, he was staring at a collection of alcohol that looked as expensive as the place itself. Every surface was sparkling, and a beautiful chandelier lit the area softly. It was a very nice place.

The moment of wonder was over quickly, though, when footsteps echoed from the hall.

“Luci?” Amenadiel called. His voice was taut with barely concealed terror.

“Afraid not, brother.” He didn’t particularly want to tell Amenadiel about Lucifer being in Heaven while he was stuck on Earth, but it would be wrong to leave him so distressed.

But Amenadiel was already frantic. As soon as his mouth opened again, question after question spilled out.

“Do you know where he is? Where is he? Is he okay? Why is there so much blood? Why are the wings still there? Why didn’t he mop the blood up? Was there a fight? What happened? Is he okay?”

“Slow down, Amenadiel!” Raphael held his hands up placatingly. His brother’s eyes were wide and wild, but his jaw clamped shut. “He’s okay. He’s home.” He cast his eyes to the side, clinging to a desperate hope that Amenadiel wouldn’t ask anything else. But Dad never made it that easy. All he did was spark another flood of questions.

“Home? He’s in Hell? Did you take him there? Are you the one who cut his wings off?” Amenadiel took a step back; it looked reflexive. Raphael jerked his head back as if he’d been slapped. Cut his own brother’s wings off? How could Amenadiel possibly think...

“How _dare_ you! Do you think so low of me? The question should be why you let him cut them off at all!” The words came out a growl, low and threatening. The implications of such a question were so disrespectful it made his blood boil. He would _never_ cut another Angel’s wings off. God himself could not make him do it.

It was Amenadiel’s turn to be taken aback. His shoulders slumped and his face fell. “I’m sorry, Raphael. That was rude of me. I know what your duties mean to you, and I meant no disrespect. I’m just... There was so much blood! And Lucifer’s gone. You said he was back in Hell?”

Maybe it would have been better for Raphael to just lie. Lucifer was in Hell, wingless and stuck, and something, something, God’s plan. But Lucifer was the one unconscious and maimed, and he would consider Raphael’s lie and disrespectful as Amenadiel’s question.

“No, he’s not in Hell,” He waited for Amenadiel’s eyes to light with understanding, but his face only screwed up more with confusion. He really didn’t want to have to say it out loud.

“But you said—“

“Brother, he’s _home_.” And that time, Amenadiel’s face changed dramatically. His mouth moved, but nothing came out. “Gabriel found him nearly dead on the floor and flew him home to recover.”

Amenadiel stared for several seconds before he seemed to find his words. His entire body was tense. “Dad let him in?”

“My understanding is that Gabriel had no trouble flying him right over the wall. I’ve heard nothing from Father the entire time he’s been there. I don’t think Father even knows he’s there.” It was true. Michael would have shared orders if he had received them, and he certainly would have gotten them if he’d told their Father. 

“Father doesn’t know? And Michael hasn’t told him? That’s a little suspicious.”

”I know. First thing in the morning I’m going to have Zuri take over my work for the day while I tell Father myself. I need to convince him to let Lucifer stay until he heals. Right now, I’m here to get the wings.” He felt the question coming. Amenadiel was going to ask if he could come back with him. Raphael loved his brother; he did. But something deep in his gut told him that Amenadiel needed to stay right where he was. Call it Doctor’s intuition, but someone was in danger. Who better to deal with danger than an Angel of the Lord? That’s what he’d keep telling himself.

”I know how badly you want to come home, brother, but I could really use your help down here. I sense a darkness here, and I’m sure Lucifer would be grateful if you would stay here and keep things under control until he can come back down himself.”   
  


The was Amenadiel’s face drooped at his request made Raphael’s heart twinge. His big brother looked absolutely crestfallen. His eyes never left the floor, but he nodded and stepped aside, motioning toward the hallway.

“Bathroom.”

It was dark, but Raphael had no problem finding the bathroom. It was the only one with a door. He gave it a gentle push before stepping inside.

Raphael gagged at the metallicity of the air and the sticky sensation as he walked across the floor. But the wings were there. Not quite white anymore, but there. He traced his hand over the shoulder of the nearest. Ice cold.

Angry, jagged flesh ended his interest in the wings themselves. All he needed to know was what all Lucifer had cut out of him, not whether or not severed wings were as soft as the ones that were attached. But they were.

They were heavier than he imagined they would be. The ones on his back felt like nothing, they were just another part of him, but Lucifer’s wings had to total at least a hundred pounds. Worse, they didn’t want to stay folded. Bloody feathers splayed everywhere without a brain to control them. Raphael looked around for a garbage bag.

Finally, in the cabinet under the sink, he spotted a roll. The wings didn’t want to be stuffed in there, either, but he made it work and pulled the bag closed.   
  


“I’ll talk to Father, Amenadiel. You have my word. With any luck, you’ll be home soon.” Raphael said, dragging the bag as fast as he could away from the stench of the bathroom. Amenadiel gave him a tiny smile.

”Thank you, Raph. I hope you’re right. Oh, but could you do me a favour and tell Lucifer that I’m going to kick his ass when he gets back? That bathroom is going to take me ages to clean.”  
  


Raphael half-suppressed a laugh. “That’ll be the first thing he hears from me. See you soon, brother.”

”Soon,” Amenadiel called before Raphael focussed and sent himself back to the Silver City. He landed right back where he had left.

Michael jerked awake with a gasp and a wince. “ _God!_ ”

“I was gone five minutes.” 

”Eight and a half,” Michael grumbled, adjusting himself in the chair.

“Stop whining and help me.” Raphael rolled his eyes. Michael was such a _child_.

Michael made a strange noise in his seat, and when Raphael looked up, he was gesturing at the needle in his arm. “I am attached!”

Raphael’s lips tugged into a smile. Faster than Michael could react, he snatched the needle by the tube and yanked it out without warning. There were several bags of blood anyway.   
  


“Better?”

”No!”

”Shame.”

The bag was big and lumpy. If you squinted hard enough, it could almost pass as a bag of laundry. But when he opened it, it was still just two giant, bloody, white wings severed at the shoulders. Michael visibly cringed when Raphael dumped them onto the floor.

”Shouldn’t they, you know, not go on the dirty floor?”

Raphael shrugged. “What did you think I was going to do, staple them back on? I just want to see what the hell he did. I can’t stitch him up until I know what I’m looking at. No one’s done this before.”

Michael peered intently at the wings, reaching out with the toe of his shoe to tap one. It shifted flatly under his touch. “Leave it to Sam to try something new and make a giant mess.”

“Oh?”

”Sex in Eden, the Rebellion, Vacationing on Earth, this. He’s a disaster in a three-piece suit.”

Raphael raised an eyebrow. “Jealous much?”

Michael scoffed and looked away.

Raphael shook his head and pulled the shoulder of one wing closer. There wasn’t much flesh hanging off of it, the cut fairly clean. The left wing looked like its wound could be stitched up without worrying about whatever lay beneath. The right wing was a completely different story.

There was a lot more hanging off the right wing. It wasn’t just wing muscles that had been cut, but several things in the back, as well. No wonder he had started bleeding out. He recalled looking into the wound, which had looked like everything had been scooped out. It just went so far. The additional open blood vessels must have been enough to send Lucifer over the edge.

If the wings came back, the wound could probably be stitched because it would be healed up by their return. If they didn’t grow back and Raphael stitched them anyway, Lucifer would have several troubles with the muscles in his back. Maybe he should just keep them packed and hope the wings grew back quickly enough that it didn’t matter.   
  


Raphael shared his concerns with Michael.

”Stitch ‘em. Serves him right if they don’t grow back, since I’ve been walking around like this since his stupid rebellion.”   
  


“Leaving them open it is.”

”Dick.”

Raphael ignored the comment. “It’s nearly dawn. You should go tell Father that he’s here.” He watched Michael carefully. He would be talking to Father himself regardless because he didn’t trust Michael in the slightest, but he wanted him out.   
  


Michael didn’t even say goodbye before he practically sprinted out the door. It wasn’t surprising.   
  


A few moments later, a voice popped up behind Raphael.

”Is he gone?”

”Yes, Zuri. He’s gone.” Raphael smiled.

”Whew, thank Dad. Does he even notice how rude he is? His twin brother nearly dies and his biggest concern is how fast he gets to leave.”

“I would have told him as such, but I needed his blood.”

“That sounds _so_ creepy, dude.”

* * *

Raphael slipped out of the hospital at lunchtime. It wasn’t something he usually did both because he didn’t need to eat and because his patients needed him a little bit more than a salad. Not that they could die, per se, but paradise was supposed to be, well, paradise! Most humans were shocked to find that medical care in the Silver City wasn’t much more advanced than on Earth. Angels could heal physical human bodies with Angel feathers just fine, but the soul was more complicated than that. The Silver City and Hell were the only places where a soul could be damaged under normal circumstances and they had to heal as a body would on Earth when it happened. That included Angels.  
  
Home was a fast flight, less than two minutes, and if Raphael was correct, Michael would be in his room for at least half an hour. That gave Raphael just barely enough time to try and speak to his Father. If he got to talk to him at all. 

God had become very reclusive after the rebellion. Even Michael hadn’t seen him. He never left his bedroom, and Raphael planned to take full advantage of that.   
  


The door was big and dark, situated on the top floor of the house and at the far end of a long hallway. At one point, there had only been two stories to the house, but eventually, it just wasn’t enough for so many kids. The youngest children had rooms higher up, closer and closer to their Parents’ bedroom. There were only five pairs of doors between Michael’s and their Father’s.   
  


Raphael took a deep breath. All he had to do was say that Lucifer was there. That was it. His fist hovered inches from the solid oak. Just. Knock.

He gave it three taps and waited. Someone shuffled inside, but no one spoke. Raphael knocked again.

”Father? It’s Raphael. I’d like to request an audience with you if at all possible. It’s very important.” The movements inside stopped. The silence stretched. Maybe the bandaid just needed to be ripped off. A little at a time, of course, just in case...

”It’s about Lucifer.”

...

”He’s... here.”

And, _oh_ , did that do the trick. That big door swung open so fast that Raphael was sure he must have just phased through it when he was yanked inside. Deep brown eyes met his own carefully.   
  


“Repeat that?” 

God was standing rigid. There was even the slightest tremble in his hands. Cotton bloomed in Raphael’s throat to choke him, and when he tried to speak, all that came out was a pathetic wheeze. His Father’s eyes intensified.

“L—Lucifer is here, Father. In the hospital.” It was as if time had frozen. Neither Father nor son moved but to palpitate in place. No one spoke. Raphael was sure that his Father was going to explode. He’d tell him to throw Lucifer back down to Hell and probably tell him to go with. Michael was adamant after the rebellion that God had commanded him to cast Lucifer into Hell for eternity, and here was Raphael, patching him up in a hospital full of souls in the middle of the Silver City. But surely his Father could make an exception this once. Would he truly make Raphael throw him out? It went against everything he stood for.

Finally, God broke the silence with a whisper. “Why is he here?”

Raphael snapped back to reality. He had to be quick and concise. “Gabriel found him nearly dead in his penthouse after he cut his wings off. He brought him here so he would not bleed out.”

“He cut them off again?”

“Yes. Third time.”

“Where are the wings?”

“I have the most recent pair here. Amenadiel is burning the other pair.”

“Who knows?”

“To my knowledge, Michael, Zuriel, Amenadiel, and Gabriel. Possibly others, I don’t know if they have shared the information.”

“Is Samael awake?”

“No.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’ll make it.”

“Do you need help?”

“I— wait what?” His brain skidded to a halt. Did he need help? What kind of question was that?

“You sound stressed. Should I ask one of your siblings to assist you while you tend to Samael?”

“I mean, I certainly wouldn’t say no, but I don’t want to take away from more important matters.”

God huffed from his nose and a small smile formed on his face. “The humans tend to consider medical care of the utmost importance. When we’re done here I’ll go find someone to split your duties with.” His face hardened. “I do have one final question, though, if that is alright?”

Raphael considered his Father carefully. It felt vaguely like a trap. “Of course, Father,” he said slowly.

“Tell me,” he said, “What do you think I’m going to do when Samael wakes?”

Oh, it was definitely a trap, and Raphael met his eyes steadily anyway. “I am unsure.”

God tipped his head, narrowing his eyes. “Are you? I’m fairly certain your train of thought has been something like this: You’ve got Samael in the City. He’s been in Hell for eons, his favourite pastime is having sex with any willing humans, and every other sentence is a curse in this direction. He spits in the face of divinity every chance he gets and now he has cut off his wings. I think you’ve already decided what I’ll do.”

Raphael stood stock still. His Father’s tone was threatening, dangerous, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. This was very, very bad.

“I know that look, son. You don’t like that answer. So, Raphael, what happens if I say that you are to take your brother, as is, and put him right back in Hell? What would you do? Answer me honestly.”

“Complete and total honesty?” This wasn’t how anyone spoke to God. But it also wasn’t how God spoke to anyone else. There was a fear deep in Raphael, but stronger still was a defiance. It was one thing to ask Lucifer to leave after he woke up, but to toss him back into Hell in his current state wasn’t just immoral, but cruel.

“Complete and total honesty.” Raphael felt the challenge in his Father’s tone. He didn’t come for a fight, but...

“I’d tell you what I’d tell anyone else. No. No question about it.”

”Why?”

” _Why_? Because it’s wrong! There’s no other way to put it! I’m loyal to you because I think your decisions are moral and just. If they no longer are then I _will_ disobey. I’m sorry, Father, but I will not compromise my integrity. I hope you aren’t too disappointed.”

”Disappointed? Raphael, I’m _ecstatic_. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. I’m glad your loyalty lies with right and wrong and all the ambiguity in between. Your siblings could learn a thing or two. Please, return to your brother. Oh! And send Michael in on your way out, would you? You have my gratitude, Raphael.”

Raphael’s brain was swimming a bit more than he’d like to admit. What had even _happened_? God had conned him into telling him if he’d rebel if he had to? And he’d been _happy_ to hear a yes? Not to mention that his Father hadn’t spoken to anyone since the rebellion. Not even Michael. One mention of Lucifer and he was chattier than Raphael remembered him being ever in his life? He stuttered a goodbye to his Father and backed out the door. He barely registered telling Michael to go see their Father, and was incredibly confused when he blinked and was back by Lucifer’s side.   
  


Zuriel didn’t seem worried, though. She showed him a list written in what looked like Raphael’s handwriting. It couldn’t be his, though, because he would have remembered that. Definitely. But it would keep her busy all day, and left him with some time alone, so maybe a power nap would help. Unnecessary, but rejuvenating. He could return to all those problems later. Maybe go see Gabriel. 

The recliner next to Lucifer’s bed was the single most comfortable thing Raphael had ever sat down in. Or it was now, at least. But no matter how long he sat with his eyes closed, sleep did not come. He was far too jittery. He’d spoken to his Father. For the first time in eons. And he’d looked him in the eyes and told him he’d rebel against him! And he wasn’t smitten on the spot! A groan slipped from his throat. He stretched out in the chair until he couldn’t breathe. He was the level-headed one. He couldn’t start acting like some human schoolgirl because he talked to his dad. 

Maybe he needed to talk to Gabriel a little sooner than expected.   
  


“Can’t get anything, can I, Luci? Don’t worry, I’ll be back. Father says hi, probably. Enjoy your nap.”

And Raphael was back out the door, spreading his great black-tipped wings. Hopefully, Gabriel wasn’t completely paralysed in bed. Raphael needed to vent before he exploded.


	5. We Don’t Have Time For This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever, I had Covid and that stuff sucks the life and motivation right out of you. Two weeks off work and all I wanted to so was sleep and eat food that I knew would have no taste.
> 
> This chapter’s a bit filler-ey, but I probably would have ended in the same spot regardless and y’all deserve more Gabriel.

Light filtered into the room through the curtain hanging askew on the window, illuminating the disaster that was Gabriel’s bedroom. It was as if every drawer had been upturned and its contents scattered. Because they had been. Gabriel himself was lying stock-still on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Every muscle ached. Every breath stung. Every tiny movement made Gabriel wonder what he was thinking, flying a man that weighed more than he did several miles across Heaven at one-hundred-ten percent speed. He wasn’t a warrior. He was a _messenger!_ His entire job was getting told things to tell to other people. Literally any other sibling—Other than Raphael and the children, of course—could have made the trip just fine. 

Gabriel briefly considered that the trip was premeditated punishment. That his Father knew what he was going to do and made sure he’d be regretting the decision later. But Gabriel didn’t regret the decision in the slightest. He hoped his little brother would be in the Silver City for at least a little while longer. 

There had been no word on Lucifer’s condition since he’d first prayed to Raphael, but Gabriel remained hopeful that no news was a good thing. With any luck, Michael hadn’t flipped out. Raphael was always the calm one, good at mediating altercations and being the voice of reason. Even Amenadiel listened carefully to his advice. And Amenadiel usually only ever cared what their Father thought. 

A gentle rapping on the door made Gabriel jump. “ _Ah! Ow._ ” Everything was on fire again. Couldn’t he just take a nice long nap like Lucifer? “Come in, I guess,” He groaned. 

Seconds after the door opened, Raphael’s dark face appeared above him looking flush. “You alive?” 

“ _No_.” 

“Well, you’ve got to hear this anyway. I spoke to Father.” 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “You want a cookie?” 

”No, I mean face to face. We had an actual _conversation_. Back and forth, with words.” 

Interest piqued. “Nuh-uh. What’d you say? What’d _He_ say?” 

Raphael looked sheepishly at the ground. His eyebrows knitted together while his hands worked furiously at his robe. 

”He asked me what I would do if he told me to throw Lucifer into Hell immediately.” 

“ _And_?” 

”I might have told him I’d say no without hesitation. And I’m still alive.” 

That was basically illegal. There was only one acceptable response. ”You have so many balls, dude.” 

Raphael pulled a face that reminded Gabriel of someone who was constipated. It was the standard reaction of anyone Gabriel spoke to these days. 

“Where did you even learn that phrase? If I recall correctly, that’s the kind of thing a human adolescent might say.” 

“Well, the United States sends plenty of them our way. I think the kids have competitions to see if they can get me too embarrassed to repeat something. One time I had to look Duma in the eye and tell him he was ‘Thicc with two C’s.’ Michael gave me weird looks for a week, but nothing has ever topped that and I doubt anything ever will. Needless to say, I made sure to point the kid out immediately after.” Gabriel made to sit up, but halfway there his back spasmed painfully and he fell back onto the bed. His brother eyed him sympathetically. 

“Can you roll over? I might be able to alleviate some of the pain.” 

”I don’t think I can, Raph. It’s _baaad_.” But Gabriel tried anyway. He closed his eyes and braced himself, then heaved himself up and around in a single push. Despite the pain, he grinned. “I did it!” 

“I’ll start polishing your trophy.” Gabriel could feel the eye-roll even with his face in the pillow. Warm hands pressed firmly into his back. “Still as you can.” 

“Yes, boss.” 

The heat dissipated when his brother began working. A comfortable chill sank into his muscles, numbing the ache and easing the angry swelling. 

_The humans would call this gay,_ he thought. _Wait no, I have socks on_. 

Raphael made an angry noise when he started shaking with laughter, which only made Gabriel laugh harder. 

” _What is so funny?_ ” 

“How gay this looks,” Gabriel snorted. And hey! It didn’t hurt to laugh! 

Raphael scoffed. “I’d worry more about how ‘on the floor’ you’re about to look if you don’t _lie still!_ ” 

”Fine! Fine. Continue.” 

These massages were fairly commonplace for the family, especially when they were younger. Healing was Raphael’s power, and it was some great sibling bonding, save for the fact that the favour couldn’t really be returned. At first, the other children offered to groom his wings without reciprocation, but Raphael insisted he did that, too. He was easily the most generous of the Host. 

The cold eased back into heat after a while. If memory served, that wasn’t usually how they did it on Earth, but they also weren’t being treated by an Archangel. Raphael accelerated healing. Encouraged cells to duplicate and repair or whatever the natural process was. All things that were definitely above Gabriel’s pay grade. Not that he—or any of them—actually got paid. 

Gabriel groaned happily into his pillow. “So much better. We should do this more oft—“

A deafening barrage of knocking damn-near made Gabriel jump out of his skin. His shoulders rolled reflexively, smacking Raphael directly in the face with a massive green wing.

“ _Watch it!_ ” He howled, swatting at the feathers. He turned his sour gaze to the door.

“Who’s there?” They said together.

A familiar face peeked around the door as it opened. “Guys, we— _Woah_ , am I interrupting something?” 

Gabriel shot her a toothy grin and elbowed Raphael in the ribs. “That’s what _I_ s—“

Sharp pain burst along Gabriel’s side as Raphael returned the jab with a vengeance. “There is something seriously wrong with you two. We. Are. _Siblings_!” Amusement glittered in his brown eyes, pairing with the tiniest of upturn of his lips to betray him. The joke probably wouldn’t have flown with some of their other siblings.

“That doesn’t stop some of the humans.” Azrael waggled her eyebrows for a moment, but her expression turned sour. “Speaking of humans, we have a serious problem. Like really, really serious.”

Gabriel tipped his head, squinting. “Like the whole ‘Satan’ thing, or...”

“What ‘Satan’ thing? Wait, no, never mind. _Why is time here running parallel to Earth?_ ”

The sentence didn’t process at first. Something about ‘time’ and ‘Earth’ and ‘parallels,’ but that made about zero sense. Luckily, Raphael was a lot smarter.

“Holy shit how did I not notice? I didn’t even realise it when I got back from Earth, how did you notice?

Azrael shuffled into the room radiating stress. Her brown eyes were dark-rimmed and bloodshot. Panic edged her voice. “My entire job relies on me having eleven hours to a second up here! I can’t chauffeur the dead people when we’re on the same clock, there isn’t enough time!”

Finally, understanding slapped Gabriel in the face. “So’re we sure this isn’t about the ‘Satan’ thing? ‘Cause—“

“Okay, WHAT ‘Satan’ thing?” Azrael threw her hands up in the air. 

Gabriel cast a glance at Raphael, who was staring back with an unreadable expression. Lucifer and Azrael had been very close before the rebellion. Lie to her so she’s less stressed or tell the truth because Lucifer’s into that sort of thing? 

“Uh, well, Lucifer’s in the hospital—here—because he can’t make a clean cut to save his life. Literally.”

“Gabe!” Raphael hissed.

“What? Is he okay? Does Dad know? Why didn’t you tell me?” Azrael fretted, running a first through her hair. Her wide eyes glinted in the light.

Raphael, rubbing his temples, sighed dramatically. “He’s _fine_ , Father’s ecstatic, and this.” He gestured vaguely in their sister’s direction. “ _Thiiis_ is why. And now we’ve got this time thing to deal with, so I have to talk to Amenadiel again. Do you know how awkward that is? 

Rae, because I love you, I am going to get you some assistance. If you feel like you’re about to drop dead, stop working and go do literally anything else. If you promise not to go spouting off to the rest of the City, you can even go visit Lucifer. Maybe go speak with Father, he talks again! When I get your help, I’m going to take this idiot and we’re going to go talk to Biggest Bro down on Earth to see if he knows what’s going on.”

Gabriel waited patiently for Raphael to finish. He may have been younger, but he was sharp as a tack and twice as likely to stab you. Maybe. He _had_ started the whole ‘do no harm’ thing. When he was done speaking, Gabriel cleared his throat.

“Who are you going to ask to help her? I’ll help round ‘em up.”

Raphael’s brow furrowed for a moment, but he answered fast. “I was thinking Bri, Dan, Qas, and Xaz. I don’t think they’ve been busy a day in their lives.”

“Bri’s always at the fountain right about now, and Xaz likes to hang with Zeke and pretend that he’s ‘keeping an eye on the humans’ in the mall while they run around shopping, so I can nab them if that’s alright?”

“Since you mentioned Zeke, grab him, too. He pissed me off the other day and he never does anything, either.” Raphael’s head snapped back to their sister, standing like she was in an invisible straight jacket. “You, try and get as many souls as you can and we’ll get your help going as soon as possible. We’ll send ‘em to the Eastern Gate to meet you. Don’t, uh, don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

The worry never left her eyes, but she nodded, a smile on her face that, while tiny and tight, reminded him of Lucifer. She nodded her head at the two of them and backed out of the door without a word. Gabriel looked to his brother, who, to his satisfaction, was also holding his side where his elbow made contact. 

“Meet me at the Northern Gate in fifteen?”

“Let’s go.”

—————————

In hindsight, the plan was horrible. For Gabriel, at least. There was something about ‘intense physical exertion’ that really should have set the alarm bells ringing, but it seemed that the church was abandoned and the belfry belonged to the bats. So Gabriel made an easy landing right behind his sister. Ambriel turned to him, grinning.

“You’re alive!”

“Barely,” Gabriel said.

Ambriel laughed easily at him, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Thought for sure Dad would have killed you. I mean, bringing Lucifer up here? What is it the humans call that? Ah, _ballsy_!”

Gabriel rolled his eyes at her and stuck out his tongue. She spent a lot of time with the humans, too, but she was charismatic enough that only a few Angels judged her for it. She wasn’t likely to be happy about running around collecting souls, but he hoped she would at least not be angry about it.

He blew out a breath. “I really hate to do this to you, Bri, but Raph and I need your help.”

Her face fell immediately, but she nodded and motioned for him to continue.

“We have no idea why, but time here is running right alongside Earth. Azrael can’t keep up with the souls, so we were hoping you and a few others could give her a hand while we figure out the issue. It would mean a lot to me if you could—“

Ambriel let out another laugh, raising her eyebrows. “You say it like I have a choice, Gabe. Just let me know where to go and I’m there.”

“Well, technically you could– never mind. Rae’s gonna meet you at the Eastern Gate. Expect to see Qas, Xaz, Dan, and Zeke. I can’t thank you enough. Oh! Before you go, we’re trying to keep this on the down-low. Okay?”

“Yeah, Gabe, Okay. Let Raph know he owes me, ‘kay?”

“ _‘Kay_.”

They waved goodbye to each other. Gabriel watched her take flight with her barred wings. Black and white, and similar in shape to the Budgerigar, a bird he’d seen enough times to recognise them on the spot. Apparently a _very_ popular pet.

Remembering the time constraints he was under, Gabriel turned in the direction of the mall. It was a relatively recent addition to the City, one that about half the Angel population approved of. The idea of needing a currency in the Silver City wasn’t viewed positively, but the humans loved shopping. So to appease both sides, everything was free.

The building was several stories tall and mostly windows that let Gabriel see the throngs of people inside. He had ten minutes to find the lazy duo and get to the Northern Gate, and he had absolutely no intention of being late. A rare occurrence indeed.

A stray piece of hair tickled his nose, guided by the warm breeze. He was likely a sight to behold with his hands together in prayer. Luckily, no one could hear the prayer he was sending.

_Xaz! Zeke! Since you want to shop all day, you don’t get the deets. Get your asses to the Eastern Gate right now or so help me, Dad, you’ll be on guard duty for the next six months!_

Everyone hated guard duty. It was the single most boring job in the entire City because there was nothing to guard _against_ . The animals stayed in the woods because it was Heaven and they had no need to get close to humans, and there were no other cities. Gabriel was pretty sure that most of the Angels _wished_ that Lucifer would show up, just so they had something to do. Typically, the most action the guards saw was on the outer wall, which humans weren’t supposed to go through without an escort. It was a rare occasion, but some humans did attempt to venture out into the rest of Heaven, and those efforts were squashed fast. The wild animals were kept out of the City for a reason.

_Eve does a lot of hiking towards the outer wall. Adam doesn’t even seem to no—_

Something heavy slammed into Gabriel from behind. His knees buckled under the weight, but just as he was sure he was about to hit the ground, a hand caught him around the collar.

“Sorry, Gabe. Guess I didn’t see ya,” Ezekiel said. When Gabriel twisted around, dark eyes twinkled back at him, accented with a playful smile. 

Gabriel gripped his brother’s arm and heaved himself back to his feet. “You two featherbrains get my message?”

Another face appeared from behind Ezekiel’s. Xaztiol stuck his tongue out with a smirk. “Unfortunately. But since we are _here_ and not ‘ _shopping_ ,’ we demand these ‘deets’ that you mentioned.”

Gabriel faked a groan, grabbing Xaztiol by the shoulder. “I’m busy but the quick version is Amenadiel’s having a stroke or something and Azrael needs help with the dead people.” Zeke narrowed his eyes as if making sure he wasn’t being played. A smart move, for sure. This was the most action the Silver City had seen since the Rebellion and Gabriel—while not as bold as Lucifer—was well known for yanking a few chains here and there.

“For real?” Xaztiol asked.

“Xaz, if I am messing with you, you can have Metatron put _me_ on guard duty for a month. Eastern Gate. Now. I have places to be and Amenadiel to pester.”

“Oh, then don’t let us hinder you on such an important mission. Please, great Gabriel, pester away,” Ezekiel joked, bowing. Great brown wings spread behind him, picking him up with a powerful beat. “C’mon Xaz, let’s not bother the old man!”

Xaztiol’s wings were smaller, and a much lighter cream colour, but they carried him into the air gracefully. He waved a rude gesture down to Gabriel. Gabriel, feeling the love, waved one back.

With his three charges down, he could finally get a move on. He wanted to get back to his massage therapy, damn it! The thirty minutes or so he got wasn’t going to cut it for long.

Feeling frisky, Gabriel gave his wings a long stretch. Several people stopped walking to watch him; seeing an Angel never seemed to lose its appeal to humans. A good shake and a wink and he was off to Raphael. He crossed his fingers that he was ready, too. 

—————

Gabriel waited four minutes for Raphael at the gate before he finally showed up, ranting about how Daniel fought him tooth and nail to avoid going with Azrael. It wasn’t surprising; Daniel never liked doing more than the bare minimum. Gabriel recounted how Ezekiel and Xaztiol had reacted. After the exchange, they waved to Remiel standing watch and flew straight down to Lucifer’s penthouse.

They landed lightly next to the piano. Light danced around the room, reflected by nearly every surface in the place. A pit settled into Gabriel’s stomach. This was Lucifer’s home. He had a life here, including friends and a job. There was even a woman in his life that wasn’t just in his bed, or even in his bed at all. A lot of the Angels talked bad about Lucifer for being disobedient, but Gabriel could never understand their issues. A life sentence for starting a fight? It was pretty ridiculous. It was a big fight, sure, but still just a fight. No one died, and the only permanent injuries were on Michael. As far as Gabriel was concerned, Lucifer had every right to start a new life on Earth. Hell, he’d love for Lucifer to stay in the Silver City! He was his little brother, and that meant something to Gabriel.

From the direction of the bathroom, there was muffled clattering. Raphael took the lead, strolling down the hallway with his hands in his pockets. 

“Amenadiel?” He called. The clattering stopped. The doorknob rattled, and out stepped Amenadiel.

“Hey, Raph. You’re back?” A rag draped over his arm that Gabriel guessed was white at some point. It was now a deep crimson colour, dripping a translucent red liquid. His nose burned.

Raphael’s eyes roved the room. “Yeah. Unfortunately, it’s not for anything good. We thought you might know what’s going on.”

Amenadiel furrowed his brows. His eyes darted between the brothers. “What do you mean?”

Gabriel’s stomach sank lower. If Amenadiel didn’t know what was happening…

“Rae discovered that Heaven is no longer on a different clock than here. They’re matched about second for second. We were hoping that you’d done it or at least that you could _un_ do it.” Amenadiel looked progressively more horrified with every word. Raphael sighed. “I take it you’ve got no idea what the hell I’m talking about?”

“Have you informed Father?”

Raphael flinched. “Ah, no. We wanted to try and fix it before telling him. He’s got his hands full with the Lucifer situation and I didn’t want to pile on more.” Amenadiel nodded along.

“Do you need any help up there? I could—” That was Gabriel’s cue to go snoop. He’d had enough awkward conversations to last several lifetimes; Raphael could handle this. He felt Raphael’s glare boring into his back when he started peeking into the other rooms.

There was a big kitchen back up the hall, but Gabriel elected to skip that in favour of going into the bedroom and digging through Lucifer’s closet. Maybe he’d borrow a few things. They were brothers, so it was totally fine. Lucifer could only be mad for so long, right?

The fabric was soft under his fingers, softer than the robe he was wearing now. They looked like a lot of work, though. So much clothing in an outfit and for what? Though his understanding was that humans found suits to make one more attractive and formal-looking, and Lucifer was definitely the type to go all-out.

Something in the back caught his eye. It was a deep maroon colour, and it looked like it hadn’t been touched in ages. Lucifer wasn’t as scrawny as before. Maybe it no longer fit him.

Gabriel wrestled with the hanger until it finally just bent off the rod and he could pull the suit out. He held it up to himself, pouting, assessing if it would fit him or not.

There was only one way to find out.

He pulled his robe up over his head unceremoniously and tossed it onto the massive bed. Hopefully, Raphael and-or Amenadiel didn’t decide to come looking for him.

The suit was a bit confusing. There were so many buttons and zippers and pieces that he could barely tell what went where. He looked at the other suits for reference. White shirt. Weird vest thing. Jacket. Pants. Now he just needed some shoes. 

A row of them lined the floor of the closet, and Gabriel picked a black pair. With any luck, Lucifer and he had the same shoe size.

Lo and behold, they did. 

Gabriel checked his reflection in the windows. He wouldn’t lie, he looked pretty great! He could see the appeal in the fancy human clothes, but to wear them every day? It was a workout just getting them on. No, thanks. He trotted down the steps to search for a mirror.

Muffled voices drifted from down the hall, almost certainly Amenadiel asking to be flown to the Silver City. Gabriel would usually be all for it, honestly. But usually, Amenadiel hadn’t brought a dead guy back to life for the express purpose of committing second-hand fratricide. He’d live if he spent some more time on Earth. It was hardly a punishment! 

Ignoring the sibling squabble, Gabriel checked himself out in any and all available reflective surfaces. Very fancy, but something was off. 

_Is it the hair? It’s the hair._

Dark auburn locks fell over his shoulders when he pulled the pin out. He ran his fingers through it until it laid flat on his head.

He opened his mouth to call out to his brothers but closed it again when a buzzing sound drew his attention to the bar counter. He cocked his head quizzically. Stealing clothes and invading his privacy? Who would do that?

Gabriel. Gabriel would do that. He shrugged and grabbed the device. The texts floating across the screen split his face with a wicked grin.

**The Detective:**

**Lucifer, I know you don’t like paperwork but this is ridiculous. It’s 2 pm.**

**M. Carver:**

**Wanna get together tonight 😏**

**The Detective:**

**Lucifer. I swear to God if you’ve run off to Vegas or something again you’re benched. Being partners requires both of us.**

**A. Wolfe:**

**I’ll be in the area tonight what do you say we make it a party 🎉 🎉**

**The Detective:**

**Seriously?**

**The Detective:**

**You can’t keep doing this.**

**E. Nairn:**

**Ive got the lube if youve got the toys**

**The Detective:**

**If something is wrong you can talk to me, you know? Gambling and sex will not solve your problems.**

**Z. Wiley:**

**🍆💦🍆💦**

**The Detective:**

**I spoke to Linda and Maze. They haven’t seen you, but Maze said something about you cutting off your wings? I assume she meant those cosplay things that were stolen before? What is she talking about? I’m worried about you.**

**The Good Doctor:**

**Chloe said she hasn’t seen you since last night and you missed our session. Where are you? Are you alright?**

**👹👹👹:**

**Hey asshole u got decker scared shitless and pissed**

**👹👹👹:**

**Its kinda hot**

**👹👹👹:**

**But i think she might kill u**

**👹👹👹:**

**Hope ur having a good shag**

**The Detective:**

**I’ll be at the precinct all day today getting everything ready for the comedy show tonight. If you can come in, do. Unfortunately, this seems like something you could really help with. Stay safe.**

Gabriel was aware that Lucifer knew many humans. Everyone did. But he wasn’t informed that Lucifer had human friends. Close ones, anyway. This ‘Detective’ seemed very worried about his whereabouts, and so did ‘The Good Doctor.’

He was relatively sure that the name in all little pictures—emojis?— was the Demon, Mazikeen, but the others were a mystery. The Detective was the most interesting, though. An idea popped into his head.

“Guys! Guys, come check me out!”

The voices quieted reluctantly. Heartbeats later, his brothers came out of the dark hall.

“What do you think?” He asked, gesturing to himself.

Amenadiel rolled his eyes. “You look like a hippie.”

The comment stung for a second, but he shook it off. “And you look like an eight-ball. Buzz off.”

“You asked!”

“I told you to tell me how I looked, not to be rude. Tsk, tsk.”

Raphael scoffed dramatically. “Children, children, please! Gabe. Why do you have that phone?”

Curse Raphael and his doctor-eyes. Gabriel tossed the phone over the counter, cringing at the expensive-sounded crash when it landed.

“What phone?”

“ _Why are you like this?_ ” Raphael asked.

“You probably don’t want to see what’s on that phone, Gabe,” Amenadiel chimed in.

Teeth closed instinctively on his bottom lip. How to convince them?

“Okay, okay. So I looked at his texts or whatever. Amenadiel, why didn’t you tell us he had a lady-friend?” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows suggestively along with a finger flutter.

His brother’s cheeks reddened. “Well… they’re not technically together. He works with her at the LAPD.”

Gabriel’s head snapped to Raphael. He bounced excitedly on his toes while he asked, “CanwegomeetLucifer’sgirlfriend?”

“What?” Amenadiel and Raphael asked at once.

“You’ve been hiding Lucifer’s secret girlfriend from us! I want to meet the pretty lady that got Lucifer to take up a job in human law-enforcement. She’s all worried about him, so they’ve got to be close!”

“Gabe, we need to get back to the City and figure out this time thing. The human will still be here after we find out what’s wrong.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “We don’t get to come down here very often, what if we don’t get another chance? And I can out-fly you. Do you really want me going unsupervised? Come _oooon_ , this will give us _so_ much material to tease him about when he wakes up. Plus, I’m already dressed for it. Look how great—and totally not hippie-like— I look!”

Their eldest brother ran his hand over his head. “I don’t know about this…”

“She should know where he is, right? We can just drop by and let her know he’s with family after getting hurt! She sounded pretty upset.” Gabriel pouted his lip. “It would be rude to let her keep wonderiiiiing,” he sing-songed.

Amenadiel sighed. “Chloe Decker. Enter through the front doors and state your names and what you’re there for. In this case, a chat with Chloe. Specifically about her partner. Try not to expose her to divinity, Gabe?”

“I’ll do my worst. ‘Mon, Raph. Lucifer’s girlfriend awaits!”


End file.
